Hatred
by Invader Sah
Summary: Companion piece to Laughter. Malik's hated a lot of people in his life. But none so much as him. Pairings: MarikxBakura, vague onesided MalikxMarik. Yaoi, angsty, rated for some bad language. Malik gets a bit upset


_...wow...This is...wow...I have to say this is my proudest peice of work so far. It's a companion piece to Laughter; which gave Ryou's point of veiw on Marik and Bakura's relationship. Now we get to see it from Malik's._

_I did NOT mean for it to carry on as long as it did, I just couldn't find a way to end it. But I really like how it came out._

_Warning though, Malik's a bit of an angst-bucket..._

_Also, there's a very, VERY small Sweeney Todd Reference. I love that movie, and I havn't even seen it yet...  
_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing - not Yugioh nor Sweeney Todd - but I own the vague plot. I am making no profit from this**_

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_Hatred was far from a new thing for him. It was an emotion he had experienced his entire childhood, almost his entire _teen hood_ for that matter. Ever since the day he was old enough to grasp the emotion it had been there, burning like an ever consuming flame in his stomach. Countless faces fit the emotion; his father for all he had done to him, his sister for never stopping it, the pharaoh for being the cause...

But this kind of hatred was alarming even to him. This was an all time consuming _loathing_ for the man who had, in all honesty, done absolutely nothing _wrong_. Well, not with any intent to effect him, or without any knowledge of having done so.

Malik hated Bakura. So much that the mere sound of his name caused his stomach to churn in disgust and blood thirst, which truly was unfortunate due to the fact he could never go a day without hearing it. After all, the thief's name was constantly rolling off the tongue of his own yami.

Marik was besotted. There was no doubt in that; whenever Malik offered an ear, his yami would go on for hours and hours about how _beautiful_ Bakura was, how _smart_, how _talented_, how utterly and undeniably _perfect_ in every way shape and form. Hell, even when Malik snarled at him to _shut up_ for once and stormed off, he could hear Marik informing the furniture exactly how wonderful the blue haired male was.

Which was the reason Malik hated him so unconditionally. Because who the _fuck_ was Bakura!? He was a thief, a street rat, a failure who had been trapped in an inanimate object for 3000 years, who had possessed the body of the poor, innocent Ryou and tortured him, used him. Bakura was a traitor to everyone, had not a single hint of loyalty to his name.

And yet Marik held him in such high regard that he might as well have been Ruler of the World, as if he had never done wrong in his life and should have fucking _songs_ orchestrated in his name - which, much to his dawning horror, Marik seemed in the process of doing.

And Malik? Marik's own hikari, the one who had given him life, who had welcomed him back into his home even after everything he had done, who offered him food and shelter and warmth...might as well have been just another face in the crowd. Sure, Marik paid him due respect when they were alone and when he had worn himself tired from singing praises of the thief - a very rare occurrence, mind you - and he took care of his hikari whenever Malik took ill or showed upset.

However, enter Bakura into the scene, and suddenly Malik didn't even exist. It wasn't even a _question_ as to who came first on Marik's list, and because of that Malik hated the thief with every inch of his heart.

It was just so fucking _unfair_.

Snarling loudly the Egyptian slammed his foot against the wall, covering his ears with a pillow as he tried desperately to tune out the voices downstairs. _He_ was over again; downstairs, probably sprawled out on his yami's chest as they watched some horrible romance-horror movie. Because for whatever reason Bakura _loved_ those, and because he loved them, Marik went out of his way to keep a healthy stock.

Clenching his teeth Malik glowered at his ceiling, gut wrenching violently when the loud, ecstatic sound of Marik's laughter bubbled up the stairs, followed by the enthusiastic buzz of whatever the thief had said to set off the reaction. Ra he _hated_ him! Breathing a little uneven he laid there for a few moments, wallowing in the burning that stung his skin before finally rolling off the bed, the pillow he had been clenching falling to the floor.

Shaking his hair to create some sort of order he snatched up a shirt, tugging it over his head as he stalked out of his bedroom just in time to hear a loud, over dramatic final scream of death, cringing in disgust at discovering his assumption had been correct.

Marik didn't even _like_ those movies. This was something Malik had picked up pretty fast on, due to the fact that when Bakura wasn't around, they were left completely untouched. No, his yami _loved_ actions. Anything with lots of explosions and fast paced chase scenes, those were what the other watched whenever he didn't have his - and the word made him silently retch - _boyfriend_ around to entertain. Of course Bakura wasn't impressed by exploding vehicles, so whenever he was over Marik wouldn't even so much as suggest watching one.

Storming down the stairs without even the slightest attempt to be quiet he stalked into the living room - if they asked he could say he was heading to the kitchen, since it _was_ on the other side - sparing a moment to glance at the scene taking place in his own house.

Sure enough, Bakura was sprawled out on top of Marik, back pressed against his chest. The blond had his arms wrapped securely around the thief's waist, and in response the thief had his hands resting possessively on the one's resting against his belly. Both seemed completely entranced in the movie playing before them; one look revealed a psychotic looking male dancing around a dirty bakery with an equally psychotic looking female, singing something about pies.

Mortified with how well he had calculated the situation he quickly made his way into the kitchen to calm his nerves, snatching a jug of milk from the fridge and taking a swig straight from the bottle. It was a nasty habit both he and Marik had, that both Ishizu _and_ Bakura had expressed great disdain for. Naturally Marik refrained from doing so whenever the blue hair was around, but Malik did it mostly out of spite.

Closing his eyes he leaned against the fridge, sighing softly. Forehead furrowing in annoyance when suddenly the cause for his problems started to sing along with the film - obviously he had seen it before, but it must be one of his favourites because Marik always took care to rent either ones he _hadn't_ seen, or ones he particularly liked - and what angered him the most was Bakura was a _good fucking singer_.

His beautiful voice had been one of the many things Marik constantly praised, and the fact that he now had living proof of it going on a few feet away from him caused his teeth to grind together in an overly unpleasant way.

After a moment of reorganizing his thoughts he finally ventured back into the living room; unfortunately, this time round he made the mistake of smacking against the wall, and of course the sound, quiet as it was, couldn't possibly go unnoticed by an infamous thief such as the one receding in his living room.

Curious brown eyes - with a hint of red, as Marik so lovingly reminded him every time - looked over the back of the couch, lighting up upon spotting the miffed light. "Oh, Malik! When did you get there?" Was Bakura's way of greeting. Instantly purple joined brown, Marik flashing his hikari a massive grin.

"I...just came down for something to drink." Malik responded, trying to sound pleasant but it came out strained. Luckily it was either missed or brushed off as tiredness, because neither of the two dark's commented on it.

Nodding understandingly the thief flashed his teeth in a smile. "Having troubles sleeping? We're not being to loud, are we?" He asked, and Malik quickly shook his head, even as he swallowed down the unpleasant taste in his mouth.

"No, no. I was having troubles sleeping." Of course you were being to loud, you son of a jackal! "I had some milk though, that should help. Didn't mean to disturb you."

Brown eyes danced with amusement. "You didn't disturb us." Bakura reassured him, and Marik nodded in agreement. Nonetheless Malik excused his self, making his way up the stairs with a scowl on his face.

What he hated most about Bakura was he didn't have a _bad_ personality...okay, yes he did; he had an awful personality. He got along with no one, went out of his way to alienate everyone he came in contact with - usually by means of stealing their wallets - and loved nothing more then making everyone's lives miserable.

Excepting two people. The first being Marik, of course, and the second being Malik. Not because Bakura _liked_ him, naturally; at least he wouldn't under normal circumstances. Sure, they had once been partner in crimes, but that was because the situation called for it; and it wasn't like they did it because they _liked_ each other. Ra no! Malik had wanted to use him to get at the Pharaoh, and Bakura just wanted his Millennium Rod. Not that he needed it anymore, since he had Marik, who had his own shiny one.

Which was why he went out of his way to be nice to Malik in the first place; _because he had Marik_. Bakura was Marik's boyfriend - retch - and Malik was Marik's hikari. Thus, Marik _needed_ the two to get along, and because he needed it, Bakura went out of his way to try and make it happen. In return, he did the same. Of course he didn't know what the thief actually felt for him, perhaps just utter neutrality, or maybe he secretly hated Malik the same way Malik hated him.

But either way, Bakura was nothing but polite and friendly to him, sometimes even going to far as to invite him on his and Marik's nightly chaos runs. Something Malik always put down because that much time with the thief might end with him throttling the other, if the constant loving gestures the two dark's shared didn't cause him to take his own life first.

Sitting on the foot of his bed - because he had no intentions of sleeping, he just said he was going to so Bakura didn't offer the invitation to watch the movie with them - Malik began a glaring contest with the wall. Naturally if Bakura had offered he wouldn't have been able to turn it down, because Marik would recognize the hostility and the last thing he needed was the hurt looks.

After all, Marik was vaguely aware of the disproving views from his hikari on the relationship he was in, considering Malik had said he doubted it when his yami had first announced he and the thief were going steady. He would never forget the distraught look Marik had given him, looking almost like a kicked puppy. Ever since then he had taken care to only show tense politeness to the other whenever Marik was around, and simply avoided him completely whenever he wasn't.

Suddenly he picked up on the fact downstairs had gone deathly quiet. Alert now he straightened, straining to hear any sort of sound. When he didn't pick up anything - not the movie, not Bakura's obnoxious voice, not even Marik's laughter - he became slightly suspicious and again rose to his feet, sliding silently out into the hall.

This time he took the stairs carefully, still straining - though the glow of the TV light could still be seen, he didn't hear anything from it. Frowning he leaned into the room, and instantly spotted the reason for the sudden silence.

The movie had ended, and obviously been switched to mute, because the credits were rolling but there was no sound coming from it. Bakura had rolled over, face now buried in Marik's hair, sides raising and falling in soft slumber, hands curled between their bodies on the blond's chest. One of Marik's hands was tracing small circles on the blue thief's lower back, the other resting between his shoulder blades, fingers splayed out to cover more ground. Due to the faint glow of the TV Malik could see that his yami wasn't sleeping, deep purple eyes watching Bakura with open affection.

Stomach now feeling uncomfortably tight Malik withdrew from the room, eyes clenching, nerves sufficiently rattled as he braced himself against the hallway wall. Slowly folding his hands over his midriff as if to ease the pressure there he released a shaky sigh, trying to ignore the fact that the scene had effected him so hard.

As he regained feeling in his toes and began making his way up the stairs, he realized the _real _reason he hated Bakura so much...

...Was because he was everything Marik wanted.

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_R&R PLEASE! Tell me if you liked it! I might actually write more, because I think Ryou and Malik should have a convertation together...  
_


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